Aliens of Baker Street
by comeonthensexy
Summary: The TARDIS crash lands into 221B, where River and the Doctor meet Sherlock and Watson. River/Doctor Shwatsonlock possible Moriarty/Master. Rated T for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

AN: Set just after The Wedding of River Song, in both the Doctor and River's timeline. Set indefinitely after the Great Game for Sherlock and John. River/Doctor (It's canon now!) Eventual Shwatsonlock (Just as canon xD) Rated M for slash in later chapters.

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><p>A smile slowly appeared on the Doctor's face, and he let out a quiet chuckle as he turned on his heel and left the tomb. The smile turned into a grin as he stepped into the TARDIS, closing the door softly behind him and staring at the console for a moment.<p>

"Just you and me this trip, eh sexy?"

He jumped into action, spinning dials and pressing buttons, dancing around the console the way he only did when they were alone. The engines let out a groan as they started up, and then began dematerializing, the box whisking the madman to wherever he needed to be, as she always did. Minutes later, it stopped, making his favorite, lovely noise as the TARDIS materialized outside a rather familiar prison cell.

The Doctor opened the door and stepped outside, grinning at the woman leaning against the bars of her cell.

"Honey, I'm home!"

"You left the brakes on again, sweetie." His wife informed him.

"Like you can fly her any better."

"Of course I can. I learned from the best, remember?"

"Shame I was busy that day." He leaned through the bars, kissing her gently.

She smiled as he pulled away. "Ah, so THAT's where we are on our timeline. Lovely…"

He wiggled his eyebrows at her as he aimed his screwdriver at the lock on her door. She laughed, and pushed open the door when it clicked. Taking his hand, she pulled him into the Police Box with her, excited to see him again, the first time since they were married. She ran to the console like a little kid on Christmas morning, but when she turned back around to look up at him, there was nothing childlike about the expression on her face. She reached up to kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the console on either side of her, not caring what buttons he hit. She leaned back a bit to compensate, and flipped a switch doing so. They tumbled to the floor, giggling, and holding onto each other for dear life as the TARDIS shot into the time vortex at full speed.

"Where are we going?" River asked over the roar of the engines.

"Not a clue!" The Doctor grinned at her. "Guess we'll find out!"

The box came to a sudden stop, and the couple lay on the floor for a minute, laughing hysterically. Catching their breath, they turned to look at each other, then quickly got up and ran to the door. They opened it and stepped outside into a messy flat, none the better for having the TARDIS crash into it. Sitting on the couch were two men, a blonde in a cable knit sweater, looking incredibly surprised, and the other in a purple shirt, without a hint of emotion on his face, calmly assessing the Timelords and their box.

"Hello! I'm the Doctor, and this is River, my…uhm…" He glanced at her, catching the amused look on her face. "Er… Would you mind telling us where we are? I'm not exactly quite sure at the moment. And what might your names be?"

The dark haired man in purple moved his fingers away from his face to speak. "The name's Sherlock Holmes. And the address, is 221B, Baker Street."

"I used to know a man named Sherlock Holmes! Brilliant, he was. Alright, London, wonderful! What year is-" He was cut off by a rather terrifying noise behind him, and he turned around to see the TARDIS dematerializing. "No! No no no no no no no!" He yelled as he and River jumped, trying to grab hold of the machine before it disappeared completely. Their hands fell through empty space, and they tumbled to the floor of the flat. "Oh dear… That is extremely not what I was planning on happening today. Not that I had a plan, BUT, if I had, it wouldn't…have…involved…THAT."

River stood up, jumping into action and going to the men still sitting on the couch. "River Song." She said, extending a hand to the one called Sherlock. He ignored it.

The blonde man shook his head, blinking as if to clear his mind. "Erm. Doctor John Watson, Sherlock's flatmate." He said. "Are you two alright? Was… Was that a SPACESHIP or something? It just crashed through the wall! You can't have not been injured, bumping around in that tiny thing!"

River smirked, and the Doctor jumped up, pushing his floppy hair out of his eyes. "It's bigger than it looks. Anyways. Spaceship, yes! Crashing, that too!" He spun in a circle, taking in the room. "Same universe, twenty-first century earth, by the look of it. Seemingly ordinary flat, so WHY…" He turned around, running to John and Sherlock, studying them closely. John backed away a bit, Sherlock not caring, as usual, when he was deep in thought. "You seem to be common enough humans, not ordinary in the least, but nothing noticeably dangerous about you. Not enough to send my TARDIS into an emergency dematerialization, especially without me in it…"

"Who's to say it was them, or this flat?" River suggested. "It could have been anything within a few miles of here."

"Could have been, but she's been in danger before and never used that emergency protocol. I suppose-"

He was cut off by the man they now knew as Sherlock. "Your machine … a 'TARDIS' as you referred to it, was sent into a shutdown, caused by something in the immediate area. As far as I can deduce, it automatically left the vicinity because it detected a danger to itself. I don't mean to be conceited, but, well, I can't help but suppose it detected me."

"You?" The time travelers looked at him in surprise. Not only had he kept up with their conversation, but understood it fairly well, and was now offering a solution; not something most 'common humans' could do.

River eyed the man thoughtfully. "What about your life is different, Sherlock Holmes? What sets you apart from the others in this world?"

John tried to hide a laugh, earning himself a look from Sherlock, who then looked back at the people in front of him. "My mind. My job. Those are the only interesting things in this flat, other than John's affection for me—which no one else in this world seems to share—and Mrs. Hudson's choice of clothing, which is, frankly, quite unique."

"Your job?" River asked, just as the Doctor queried, "Your _mind_?"

He nodded to River. "Consulting detective, only one in the world." Turning his attention to the Doctor, "It happens to be the only way I can escape the boredom brought on by all the 'common humans' in this world. Good god, it must be so DULL outside of my head. Anyhow. My turn for questions. Your spaceship-"

John cut him off. "You believe they have a spaceship? Sherlock, you barely know anything about your own solar system, and you believe-"

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. First, there is no earth technology currently existing that works like that; Mycroft would know if there was. Second, they weren't lying about not knowing their location. Pupils were appropriately sized, pace of blinking perfectly normal, no noticeable tremors or nervous habits and the pitch of their voices never strained as they were speaking. And third," he turned to look at John, "You were the one who suggested it was a spaceship; why were you so quick to withdraw your initial opinion?"

"Well, I-"

"Never mind. Culture shock, obviously. Faced with something you've never considered or believed to be true; now, as it's staring you in the face, of course you're going to question yourself. You're only human."

John rolled his eyes, but grinned as Sherlock turned back to the clearly impressed travelers. "He always talks like that. He wasn't bragging much when he told you his mind was unique. It most certainly is."

"You're brilliant." The Doctor told him, rather unnecessarily. "Stone-cold brilliant."

River cast a glance at him. "He is brilliant, yes. More brilliant than a common human, no mistake. But brilliant enough to send our TARDIS back into the vortex, unmanned? That's a bit far fetched, don't you think?"

They were interrupted by the noise of a cell phone ringing, quickly cut off by Sherlock's voice. "There's been another? …Killed the same way? …Yes, I see. Don't let Anderson touch anything; I need the scene to be undisturbed. Oh, and…" He glanced at the Timelords, still racking their brains for answers, "I'm bringing guests. Non-negotiable. Ten minutes. Don't do anything stupid before then." He hung up, standing up to slip into the coat that John had already grabbed for him. Tying his blue scarf in place, he strode to the door, pausing for a moment to gesture for John and his 'guests' to follow. The four of them hurried down the stairs, onto the street outside, where Sherlock hailed a cab.

The travelers found themselves squashed into the backseat of a taxi, the Doctor looking around rather excitedly. "Public transport! Never gets old! All over the universe, all through time… Taxicabs and spacebusses… Not all that different when you think about it!"

He chattered on, oblivious to the respectively annoyed and tolerating looks of Sherlock and John, eventually shutting up when a look from River brought him back to reality. They rode in uncomfortable silence to a building in the middle of London, wrapped up in caution tape.

After paying the cabby, Sherlock held the police tape up for the other three, ignoring Sergeant Donovan as she gave him her usual reprimands. "Your posse of freaks just keeps growing, freak." She eyed the Doctor's outfit, adding, "And better watch out; some of them are starting to out-do you!"

"Hey! Bow-ties are cool!" the Timelord called over his shoulder, following the others into the building. DI Lestrade was waiting to lead them to the scene. He gave Sherlock's new 'posse' a bit of a look, but said nothing and began walking. They climbed to the fifth floor, where it became apparent they were in a hotel. Anderson paced outside the door, an unhappy look plastered on his face.

"Oh dear god, the numbers are growing." He groaned as he caught sight of the newcomers. "They're going to put us out of work, y'know!"

Lestrade patted his shoulder, humouring him as he opened the door for the group. They stepped inside, John closing the door behind them. Sherlock stopped suddenly, the other three nearly crashing into him.

"Don't move." He told them, glancing around the room. "I'm working."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Sorry for the short update! I've had a bit of writers block since I wrote this (the third chapter will end up being what was supposed to be the end of this chapter =P), and I wanted to give you guys _something _=3

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><p>Body, lying haphazardly on the floor—<em>male, early twenties, just out of college. Killed by a bullet. After firing from a handgun, the murderer went out the window and down the fire escape.<em>

Sherlock knelt next to the body, reaching into it's pockets one at a time-s_uperstitious. Paranoid. Afraid to die. Knew what was coming. _

He leaned closer to the face—_constantly traveling. Trying to avoid this._

Noticing something else, Sherlock lifted the dead man's sleeve. His eyebrows went up, and a smile grew across his face. He whipped out his cell, snapping a picture of what he saw there. The man jumped up from his kneeling position and began bounding towards the door. The Doctor, silent until now, caught his sleeve.

"What happened to him?"

"He was killed."

"Yes—Yes, but why? How?"

The tall man tilted his head to the side.

"You're a doctor, or so you say. So, examine him."

The Timelord turned his gaze to the man on the floor, walking to him slowly. He crouched on the floor, River standing next to him. He gently lifted the man's hand off of the ground, turning it over in his palms.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

He looked over the man for a moment, then placed his hand carefully on the ground again. Getting up, he locked eyes with his wife for a moment. They said nothing, turning back towards the door.

Sherlock was watching them, genuinely curious. "Why did you say you were sorry?"

The Doctor looked at the dark haired man, incredulous. "He was so, so young. Whole life ahead of him, short as yours are. He could have done so many things. Humans—you do more damage to each other than any aliens ever could."

"So you are alien."

"Yes. Does that matter right now?"

"No." Sherlock turned on his heel, leading the group back into the hallway. Lestrade, leaning against the wall, jumped up to greet them.

"What did you find?"

"Look out the window for evidence. On the fire escape, on the ground below. I have all the information I need."

"Sherlock—what are we looking for?"

"Anything. It doesn't matter who the killer is right now. What matters is the next victim." He grinned at the inspector. "I'm going to go find myself a group of conspiracy theorists."

Lestrade had learned, after many cases, not to be surprised by the connections that Sherlock made. He nodded to the man, turned around and began issuing orders.

The little group retraced their steps through the hotel. The Timelords walked slightly behind, discussing the evening's events quietly. John matched Sherlock's long strides.

"Conspiracy theorists?"

"Conspiracy theorists." The detective replied, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

"As in, people who read the National Enquirer, and believe that aliens exist…" John trailed off, glancing back at their new companions.

"Exactly. The first victim was a woman, late thirties, married. Nothing like this victim. Except—they were both shot in places they had no reason to be in. They both have been traveling constantly, like they're running away from something, trying to hide. And, they both had on one of those little rubber bracelets. The police wouldn't find it important, but honestly, it's the only important thing about the murders."

John nodded, following the logic so far. He'd learned to keep up with the detective's explanations fairly well. Sherlock continued talking as they began down the hotel's staircase.

"The bracelets were different colors, but they had the same engraving. The Alistay Alliance. You've probably gotten emails from them, seen ads. It's a fairly well known group of conspiracy theorists. They hold seminars, lectures, protests—that sort of thing. They're being targeted, and one can only wonder why!" Coming to the bottom of the stairs, he turned and grinned down at John. "We're going to find out."


End file.
